Stranger Than Fiction
by STF28
Summary: Everything in Stephen Strange's life had consequences. His careless driving led to his accident. His accident led to the Ancient One. Even defeating Kaecilius and Dormammu left its mark. With Mordo's righteous and dangerous attitude at large, Dr. Stephen Strange will need all the skills, knowledge, and help from unexpected individuals in order to defend the world once more.
1. Chapter 1: The Doctor's Office

"I'm sorry. How did I not know this place existed?" I smacked my friend Maggie on the arm in amazement.

The moment we walked in I was greeted with the sense of familiarity. It smelled similar to that of an old library with aging books. Immediately upon walking in, we were graced room with a grand master staircase crafted with a beautiful rich redwood. It winded in both the left and right to meet in the middle, a singular and beautiful focal point of the room. I turned in circles looking at the rest in awe. I couldn't imagine, considering the level of artistry, how long this entire room had taken to build and craft.

"I knew you would love it. I walked past this place the other day. I can't believe I'd never seen it before." Maggie replied.

"This, this is a museum?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yes, Evelyn. It is. Why is that so hard to process? There are dozens in New York we haven't visited."

"That you haven't visited maybe." I corrected her as I bounded toward the staircase.

Running my hands along the smoothly finished banister, the staircase creaked loudly beneath me. I grinned wholeheartedly.

"Do you hear that? This place is stunning, absolutely stunning."

"You are ridiculous," Maggie responded while shaking her head at me in disapproval.

"What? I'm an architect. This is my life. This is my thing. This is my love."

"Old rotting wood is your love?"

"He's not rotting." I sighed emphatically while leaning my head against it. "He's polished, handsome, and will never leave me. How can I look for anyone better?"

Our friendly banter ended abruptly at the sound of padding footsteps approaching quickly above us. Almost instantaneously a man appeared with a furrowed brow. He was medium height with a stocky build. His bald head paired perfectly with his serious expressionless face.

"I assume you both are here for the 4:30 tour." He said standing at the top of the staircase.

Both Maggie and I turned to look at one another, caught off guard by his abrupt manner.

"Yes," Maggie began to respond but was caught off promptly.

"Very good. Follow me." He turned and walked back toward the direction he had come from. It hardly gave Maggie and I the chance to process what had happened.

"Come along." His voice echoed throughout the large lobby area. It was if he could see we didn't know what to do."

Maggie scurried up the wood structure tugging me by my arm, "If he murders us, I blame you and your damn love of wood."

"This is 50/50, Mags. You brought us here." I whispered harshly.

At the top, we found him waiting for us, clearly impatient for this to be over when it hadn't even started. He moved quickly in front of us, with no intent on stopping for introductions.

"I'm sorry. Shouldn't we wait for other people?" I suggested breathily, trying to keep pace with him.

"No, there will be no others. Just you two."

I felt my face tighten in disapproval as he continued walking down the long hallway in front of us toward yet another staircase. He was giving me no time to look at the artifacts we walked by nonchalantly nor the time to appreciate the layout or craftsmanship of the place. But, I did have time to process what he was wearing. Rather than shoes, jeans, shirts, or jackets like Maggie and me, he was wearing something decidedly more traditional. At least, traditional for the Eastern part of the world, hundreds of years ago. His dark woven robe wrapped around his body tightly matching his tights and moccasin-like shoes.

"What are you wearing?" The question flew out of my mouth effortlessly.

He stopped and turned halfway to face me as soon as the insult had been inserted into the air. I cursed myself silently and wished I could take it back.

"I am so terribly sorry." I stammered. Touching his arm in an apologetic motion, I felt him tense under my touch.

"Please forgive me that was so rude. I'm Evelyn and this is Maggie." Letting go of his arm, I extended mine once more but this time to shake his hand. It was the most formal situation I had been apart of in years if not ever.

I continued, "This place is absolutely stunning, will you please tell me all about it? Why haven't I seen this advertised or listed along with the MET or History Museum? There's no reason it shouldn't be filled with people all the time."

His face and body relaxed the longer I continued to speak and spurt out question after question. He sighed thoughtfully before taking my hand and responding, "My name is Wong. Follow me this way, please."

We began our journey once again. The room we entered this time was filled with many objects in glass cases. The ones that weren't were hanging on the wall, not out of reach but definitely too intimidating for one to touch. I was afraid to even move in fear of hitting anything.

"There are many relics in this room. Some are believed to have ancient powers beyond our capability or understanding. They are apart of a private collection owned by someone who wants others to see them but has no desire for it to be so infested with people that the objects are broken, stolen, or worse. That is why you will not find us in any guidebook to the city. My clothes are too reflect the time and area of the world in which we believe these priceless artifacts to have been made."

I heard his speech, I truly did. I didn't know why he used words like infested or insinuated that something could have been 'worse' than these items being stolen but I couldn't concentrate on whatever else he was telling the two of us.

Standing before me was an architectural marvel. To be fair, I could see the glass window from outside when we walked in but it was much more impressive in person. It had to be at least 20 feet tall and ten feet wide. It was an imperfectly perfect circle, with strips of wood curving throughout it's middle to meet the outer lines. The view from it was spectacular, you could see the larger part of Manhattan standing in front of it.

"I'm sorry, she does this with certain things. We can continue on without her. She might need a moment alone with it." I heard Maggie making mocking excuses for me to the stoic Wong.

"I love it here," I said barely above a whisper.

I turned to find Maggie rolling her eyes at me and Wong possessing what seemed to be a nano-second of a sly smile.

Unfortunately for me, he pressed on with the tour, without giving me much time to linger on my newfound favorite hideaway. The next twenty-five minutes were filled with factoids about what looked to be ancient torture devices, weapons, chalices, idols, and anything else one could imagine.

He led us out with haste, giving me only a moment to thank him and shake my hand once more. We dropped money in a box by the staircase as a donation although I didn't recall seeing it there previously.

As soon as the door shut behind us, Maggie gasped for air.

"I think I was holding my breath for that entire tour. That might have been one of the most socially awkward experiences of my life. Could you have made it any worse with your ogling of inanimate objects?

"Damn." I cursed loudly searching through my pockets vigorously.

"My keys, I think I dropped my keys in that place. I'd better go back in before he locks it up for the night. I didn't see a phone anywhere."

Maggie's eyes narrowed, "You're going to look at that window, that dumb piece of glass."

"Maggie, I will be so quick. Just give me fifteen minutes." I begged, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders.

"Ten. If you take any longer and you're caught, they will never let you back in. That guy will have no problem getting rid of you I'm sure."

"Me and Wong? No. We are good. We are best friends, you'll see."

I rushed back inside despite Maggie's complaints as I left her standing on the street. The lobby was once again empty, no sign of Wong. The odds were in my favor. I attempted to take each step quietly and cooly even though it's noises would have given me away had anyone been nearby. It was completely quiet as I moved through the long corridor and up the second staircase to the grand window.

"Wong, we're done." My heart stopped beating at the sound of another man's voice.

"The last master of this sanctum thought it was a good idea to remain open to the public. As did the Ancient One. It makes us look less obvious. No one will notice us if we look like we have nothing to hide."

I reached for the keys in my jacket pocket, holding on to them thoughtfully for a solid excuse if I was caught. Edging up the stairs, I stopped as I saw Wong. The other man had his back turned to me. All I could see was a deep crimson cape flowing behind him. What the hell was this?

"We do have something to hide, Wong. I'm sure there's a spell that can accomplish the same." He retorted.

"Strange, you are the Master of this sanctum. You do as you wish."

"You think I'm wrong?" His voice conveyed more judgment than thoughtful consideration of Wong's thoughts on the matter.

Wong said nothing.

"Fine. All the same, what should we do with this money from today, hmm? Dinner on everyone else?" I watched as the man waved the small box around containing the cash that had been donated just minutes ago.

Again, silence from Wong.

"Oh come on. I will make you laugh again, Wong. You'll see." Just like that the box disappeared from view, not from him concealing it. It was just gone. It magically disappeared. My mouth dropped open. I covered it quickly to make sure I didn't make any noise. It was time to leave.

I escaped back the way I came. I didn't understand what I just seen or rather, not seen. One moment the box was there and the next it was gone. I could feel my breathing intensifying and my chest heaving in trying to rationalize what had just happened. The beautiful staircase came into view quickly as did the ground. Suddenly my body jolted forward. I hadn't tripped. The wood felt like it had shifted under my weight and I was propelled toward it so fast I didn't have time to reach for the banister to steady myself. My center of gravity was gone and I was about to roll down the staircase I loved so much. Without a moment too soon, I felt a tight grip form on my arm stopping me from the collision.

I was pulled upward to meet the face of the man I had seen upstairs talking about things and doing things I didn't comprehend. He had no cape this time and was dressed similarity too Wong. He had a distinct look about him. Not unpleasant by far. His hair was dark with grey in patches at the sides and his chiseled face serious and annoyed. He had a steady grip on both of my arms now. I couldn't have been held much closer to him.

"What are you doing here?" His voice was low and taut.

"I was here for the tour," I said nervously.

"We're closed." He said it so simply but there was something else. I watched his dark eyes analyze me up and down. It wasn't in a desirable way but it was evidently clear he was searching for something.

"How did you," I stopped immediately. I wanted to ask how he had gotten to me so quickly. I had been so edgy that I had looked several times behind me when heading back to the doors. Not to mention, I wanted to know where that stupid box of money had disappeared too but I thought better of it.

"I'm sorry." I feigned an apology. Taking a deep breath to relax my body under his strong grip I started again, "You scared me, I dropped my keys earlier. I just wanted to come back in and get them."

"The ones that are in your hand now?" He didn't need to smirk at his pointed question but he did.

"Yes," I raised my hand slowly between the two of us, giving my keys a lighthearted jingle, "found them."

His grip loosened on me slightly. As fast as I could, I moved away from him and to the door. He stood on the steps looking at me curiously.

"Beautiful place." I gestured with a sweep of my hands. "You're very lucky to work here."

I saw the faintest hint of a smile, similar to Wong before I was out the door and gone. Maggie was there to greet me as expected. I paused looking right through her, still attempting to let my brain process what had happened.

"Evie? What's wrong?" Maggie's demeanor instantly changed from jovial to concern.

I pushed past her and kept walking taking only a moment to glance up at the window. I felt like all the air had been kicked out of me as my eyes met the man who was holding me seconds before. I broke our gaze, staring at my street and the welcoming sounds of cars, people, and protests of Maggie behind me.


	2. Chapter 2: The Patient

"Evelyn!"

I jumped, not from the sound of my name but the hand slamming abruptly upon the elevator wall in front of me.

"Excuse you," I said firmly.

Looking next to me, I found my colleague Jake staring intently. His shaggy brown hair fell across his face but it definitely did not detract from his annoyed glance.

"Evelyn. I have been trying to get your attention for the last fifteen minutes. Where is your head at today?"

He gripped the long support bar and ran his fingers through his hair, his frustration was clearly without end.

"Jake. Stop. Calm down. I'm just thinking about our new client and checking out the blueprints for his apartment."

Of course, that was a lie. I'd been staring at the blueprints in my hands for hours to no avail. My focus was shot and my anxiety level was through the roof. It had been nearly a week since my visit to the offbeat museum and the interaction with, well, whoever that man had been.

"Evelyn! Come on. Are you serious? I need your head in the game on this one." He snapped his fingers in my face, once again breaking me from my daze.

"Okay, okay." I threw my hands up in mock surrender.

"I can take this appointment on my own if you're going to stand there and daydream. I don't want this guy feeling like he's not important enough to hold your attention."

"Take it down with the insults today, will you? I have had a rough go out it lately."

That hadn't been a complete lie. I hadn't had a full night of sleep all week. I was keeping odd hours and continually spending my free time searching things like 'magic', 'sorcery', or even 'orange sparks' in Google search. Unsurprisingly, nothing helpful or enlightening came from my efforts. Nor did anything come up when attempting to find information on the museum. It was oddly and eerily nonexistent as far as the Internet was concerned, just as Wong had suggested.

"You've had a rough go? Did you even read the memo I sent on this guy?"

The elevator slowed to a stop. The ever fateful ding of the doors opening at our 7th floor destination served as a painful lightbulb moment. I had not read the memo. I had not read any memos all week. I was losing it.

I felt Jake grab my arm with a certain roughness as he pulled me out of the elevator, "Unbelievable." He continued, lowering his voice as we edged down the hall, "This guy had an accident at work. Broke his back and couldn't walk. He was in considerable pain."

I started to speak but Jake held up his hand for me to keep my mouth shut.

"He sought medical help and he was able to walk again. One year later, they found him passed out in the basement. He was in a comatose state for another few months. When he came too, the doctors found he had lost the use of his legs with no reasonable explanation and he hasn't spoken to to anyone since. It is a medical mystery."

"Oh my goodness. That's terrible. I'm terrible."

We stopped in front of an apartment door that had nothing but black marks all over the lower half. Clearly it was from this man's wheelchair - the door was not in regulation for such a thing.

"Evelyn, it's fine. Just keep it together for the meeting okay. I need you on this one. I hear he has been difficult to work with. He's depressed and needs more help than he did before all this happened the first time he lost his ability to walk. You're good with people when you're present for the conversations."

I sighed deeply, taking in the information I was just given and trying to swallow Jake's last quip without starting a fight.

"What's his name?"

"Jonathan Pangborn." Jake said simply as he knocked on the door.

A woman answered immediately. She was short, barely above five feet. Her olive complexion paired beautifully with her lush dark hair and dark green eyes. She smiled widely before reaching out and pulling both of us into a hug.

"Wow. You're deceptively strong for someone so small." The words blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them.

She pulled away quickly, laughing and smiling even more so than before.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so excited you're here. You're from the non-profit? Please tell me you are."

"Yes, you must be Jonathan's sister, Lisa." Jake intercepted immediately, "May we come in? Meet Jonathan?"

"Absolutely." She made motion for us to follow her into the main room of the small apartment.

Jake elbowed me roughly in the arm and mouthed something along the lines of 'what's wrong with you' before allowing the two of us inside.

The small hallway entering into the living room was far too narrow for a wheelchair. You could get through but it would need to be wheeled precisely. Just like the door outside there were scuff marks from the large black wheels. The paint was chipping and the carpet coming up at the ends. The living room was fortunately large enough to fit a party of four, convenient for us. My heart grew heavy upon seeing Jonathan Pangborn. He looked much like his sister with his dark hair and skin. However, his body was thin, much too thin and his face worn from hardship.

"Jonathan, they're here. Isn't that great?" His response or lack thereof was a look toward the three of us before attempting to move his wheelchair back and forth in the small room several times before he was facing the window and not us.

"I'm so sorry. He's been like this since the hospital. Would you like to see the rest of the apartment? It might be best to give him a minute."

We nodded in understanding as she led us into the galley style kitchen, once again much too small. It couldn't have spanned in length longer than ten feet with its counter space being just tall enough to be a pain in the ass for Jonathan.

"This is pretty much as we expected but the good news is we have a few options." Jake launched into his spiel about our organization and the money that had been allotted to improve Jonathan's life.

"So, this is really going to happen?" Lisa's voice cracked slightly, making my eyes water.

"Yes, with no doubt. We are going to fix up this place. Our Evelyn here already has some ideas." Jake prompted for me to continue.

Without hesitation I added, "the good news, several of the problem areas are not weight-baring areas. We should be able to open the space in the hallway, fix the door, and some other minor annoyance, such as the carpet. We have already spoken with the those that own the building and neighboring tenants to alert them of the time of the project and noise levels. However, some unforeseen circumstances can always arise in demolition and reconstruction. With that being said, we may have another option for Jonathan that will make it easier for him to live in this apartment while we renovate another that will be on the first floor. It allows him to avoid the cramped space of the elevator with immediate and easy access to the exits. The only issue is it won't be available for another three months. So, it's Jonathan's call whether or not he wants us to renovate this and live elsewhere for a few weeks or live here another three months while we work on a slightly larger and manageable space downstairs."

I stared at Lisa as the tears began to flow. She was caught off guard and obviously elated with the news.

"If you need some time to think over the options, that's completely understandable. You can take a few days, have Jonathan make the decision and let us know so we can move forward with the paperwork and the purchasing of materials." Jake finished off the mini presentation.

"You know," Lisa paused, taking a moment to pull herself together, "I will ask him but I won't get much of an answer. He would rather be back on the other side of the world if I let him, talking to gurus about getting his legs back. He always used to claim that Eastern medicine fixed his back and made him walk."

"We are terribly sorry this has happened to Jonathan. It's understandable that he would seek out that type of assistance. Thankfully, we will be able to make it easier on the two of you. If you don't mind though, while Jake and you go over some more finite details, I would like to see the bathroom and bedroom to take a few more notes for the project."

"Please. Yes, go ahead. I'm so thankful you came." Lisa enveloped me in another hug, despite her being shorter than myself.

After she let go, I turned and exited back into the living room to find Jonathan looking out the window still. I opened my mouth to tell him the good news, crack a joke, say something kind or witty but I didn't. Jonathan hadn't heard me enter. I watched as he raised both hands, holding one steady and creating a circular motion with the other. He was putting so much effort and force into his motions that he had begun to shake. Nothing was happening. I took a step backward quietly, intending to get Lisa and show her, tell her what was transpiring. At that moment a line, a singular orange wisp of a line appeared and disappeared.

"NO!" I shouted, startling Jonathan. He turned his head toward me, his eyes large from being caught in an unexplainable act.

Not even a second later, Lisa and Jake were standing behind me, asking what had happened.

I paused feeling the space of the room grow smaller with everyone's presence. Jonathan said nothing but his eyes were begging me not to say word.

I gripped ahold of the blueprints tightly in my hand, "the measurement for this place are wrong. We're going to be able to do so much more than expected in this place." The lie fell out of my mouth with some difficulty.

Lisa breathed a sigh of relief that nothing was wrong with Jonathan. Jake looked at me with disapproval yet again that day. Then there was Jonathan, Jonathan Pangborn, a man who went East to be healed by sacred people, nodded at me in thanks.


	3. Chapter 3: Diagnosis

"You liar. We're here? Again? Seriously? We just did this. This was supposed to be a fun morning out - shopping, eating, drinking, and then we press repeat and do it all again. There's none of that. There's no food, no drink, no repeat. I had long week at work. I need to have this day. I need the repeat. There's no time to do all of that if we go to this stupid museum." Maggie's complaining continued nonstop behind me.

I didn't mind because I was marching with extreme determination and purpose. We were going back to the museum. My plan was simple. First, we would ask for another tour. Hopefully, it would be someone else beside Wong. If not, so be it. Then, I would casually slip away and look for that guy, that giant question mark of a man who started this entire thing. I couldn't take it anymore. After that incident with Jonathan Pangborn the other day, I was sleeping even less. I looked like a mad woman. My long and wavy auburn hair was frizzy from lack of care and maintenance. No longer were my eyes there nice bright blue. Now, they covered by a vivid and beautiful blood shot red. Fortunately for me, all of that blended well with my crumpled wardrobe and crippling anxiety I had been feeling. I had tried to not let any of this nonsense effect my life but it was to no avail. It didn't matter how much I tried to leave it be, I couldn't. I was worrying excessively and obsessing constantly.

"Evie, please. Let's go somewhere else. If you at least take me to breakfast and get the manicure I so desperately need, then I will take you to the freaking Statue of Liberty after."

I ignored her as I pushed through the last block, my pace quickening as I neared the steps to the front door.

"Come on, you know the Statue of Liberty is one of your favorites. I'll even throw in a quick trip to the Guggenheim next weekend. How can you pass this up?" Maggie's whining was getting more persistent with every passing moment.

I pounded up the concrete steps and gripped the wooden handle with such force that I almost hurt myself when it didn't budge. I even tried to use my weight against it in hopes that it was just stuck but I knew better. Banging on it vigorously several times with my fists, I felt Maggie jerk me away.

"Will you calm down? They are closed. What's wrong with you?"

I didn't respond. That man had gone through with his plans of closing the place. He hadn't wasted any time either. Dashed were my hopes of getting any sort of answers.

"Okay, that's enough. You've been acting strange for the last two weeks. What is going on?" Maggie stepped in between the door and myself.

She was starting at me so intently I was brought back to the real world for a moment. The amount of crazy I felt was confirmed by the way she was looked at me with her large brown doe eyes.

Sighing deeply, I looked up into the graying, cloudy sky and confessed, "I'm not sleeping, Maggie. Something happened."

Then, like a sign to keep my mouth shut, I saw something move from the corner of my eye. Focusing toward the window, I glimpsed a flash of red. Had I blinked, I would have missed it entirely. Just like that my drive came back tenfold.

"Evie, what? What happened? Tell me, please."

"I'm sorry," Pausing for effect, I continued, "Work is just becoming so overwhelming. I met this guy who lost his ability to walk and Jake has just been on my back nonstop. I can't keep up and it's all just becoming far too much."

Maggie's hand fell softly on my arm, "Evie, you are my best friend. Maybe it's time to take a break. I know you like your job and helping people but you don't love it. You were always meant to design not just help fix things. Don't feel guilty about all of this."

"You don't think I'm crazy or ungrateful?" I crossed my arms, looking down at the pavement.

Pretending to be upset was going to be the only way to sell this.

"Crazy, maybe. Ungrateful? Absolutely not. It makes sense that you're so upset this place is closed. You want to make something just like this entire place right? Window included?"

I sucked in all the air my lungs could hold and bit my lip. I hated lying. Although she wasn't completely wrong, I still was not being truthful.

Nodding, I added, "I'm glad I told you but I'm exhausted. Would you be upset if I just went home? Could we meet for dinner later?"

"Duh. Go home, take a hot bath, have some tea, and take care of yourself okay?"

Nodding once again in agreement, Maggie hugged me briefly before we parted ways. I, of course, convinced her to take a cab and that I would just walk home. As soon as that crappy yellow car rounded the street corner, I was home free. Taking matter into my own hands, I began taking mental notes of the building. The front door was locked but there had to be another way in. Even if I was fortunate and the front windows were unlocked, I couldn't very well just hop on in. Too many ways for that to go wrong. I crossed the street and continued to contemplate my options, if any. There was nothing to its left. No building or fire escape, just a simple yet bustling street corner. No options there.

"Wait." I said to myself aloud.

Rushing back across the street, I went toward the neighboring building. Fortunately, all it took to get in was the press of a few buttons and a quick lie about locking myself out. I was in the elevator, up a few flights of stairs, and opening the door to the roof with, sadly, not much effort.

"Yes." I whispered to not one but myself in victory.

There it was, just as it seemed from the sidewalk. Crossing the black rough rooftop, I walked steadily toward my goal, one singular window. There was not one single inch of space between the piece of concrete I stood on and the one next too. Upon closer inspection the window was plenty big for me to fit through - it was about four feet in height and three feet wide. The design was simple aside from the black iron balcony that surrounded it like the several others on the front of the building. They were styled to open like French doors and the odds were in my favor thanks to the fact they were made to open inward not out.

"Okay, you can do this. No problem. Just a little breaking and entering." Talking myself up seemed to be the only logical next step.

Pulling myself over the iron gate, I crouched to fit myself into the tiny space between it and the actual window.

I took a deep breath in and out, "No time like the present."

Shoving my entire body weight against it, I plummeted forward and met the hardwood floor inside with a loud, reverberating thud. Landing roughly on my shoulder, I gasped from the pain pulsing through the left side of my body. Rolling onto my back, I gripped my left shoulder.

"Yes, please do come in."

In that singular moment, I froze. I didn't need to see my face to know I looked mortified. Shifting my weight to my right side, I rolled, using my good arm to push myself onto my feet. There he was. Sitting at a desk, surrounded my books the man from two weeks ago was entirely unaffected by literal drop in. While he wore no red cape, he was still dawning the same blue robe like outfit as before.

"Are you hurt?" He questioned without looking up from his reading.

"No, no I'm fine." I spoke so quietly I wasn't sure he could hear me.

I jumped when his chair screeched backward abruptly. Carefully yet confidently he strode toward me, his hands behind his back. He stopped short of a foot, giving me the up and down as he did at our last meeting.

"That two-foot drop will provide some considerable bruising to that arm the way you landed but that doesn't seem to be the only problem your suffering from, is it?" Leaning closer, he surveyed my face.

"Bags under red, agitated, and strained eyes - obviously you've had no sleep. Not to mention flushed cheeks, I imagine we can chalk that up to something else entirely." He smirked.

I said nothing. In my head, there was an entire speech full of statements, questions, and ultimately demands. Now, none of that was coming too. It had, ironically, vanished.

"Well, I'm afraid a quick diagnosis is all I have time for today. Would you like to be escorted out the front door or a boost up the way you came down so elegantly?" His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

I couldn't understand him. I couldn't comprehend what was happening between the two of us. Why was he treating me like I was a mere inconvenience and not committing a crime, which I was.

"Come now, Evelyn, I don't have all day." He gestured toward the window, revealing one of his hands was enveloped in a light leather glove that was much too big.

He knew my name, of course. Was anything surprising anymore?

"What did you do to Jonathan Pangborn?" Just like that, the words came fumbling out of my mouth. There was going to be no beating around the bush.

"Pangborn, I didn't, "He paused, caught off guard. Starting again, he asked so nonchalantly, "Would you like some tea?"


End file.
